


Lull The Moral Sense

by Ezlebe



Series: An Imperfect Medium [1]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015), Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Cemetery, Halloween Costumes, M/M, Minor Grave Desecration, Oral Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-17
Updated: 2017-10-17
Packaged: 2019-01-18 13:22:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,929
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12388929
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ezlebe/pseuds/Ezlebe
Summary: “Ren,” Hux says, stopping on his heels and reaching out to grab at a thin sleeve, halting Ren from taking another step. He thinks he manages to keep his voice level despite the otherwise furious emotion slowly rising. “What is happening here? Exactly.”“We are…” Ren trails off, his tone meeting Hux’s at near the same degree of faux neutral, rising only slightly when he actually looks at Hux from the corner of his eye. “At my Uncle’s place. For a party.”Hux drops Ren’s shirt lest he do something rash, reaching up to pinch hard at the bridge of his nose. The gesture conveniently covers theSkywalker Academy for Gifted Studentssign over the archway, but it doesn’t make it go away, and he finally lets the frown he’s been holding back form across his face.





	Lull The Moral Sense

**Author's Note:**

> WARNING: The story involves adults committing sexual acts in old cemeteries.
> 
> I wrote this in about three days, which is _super, **super**_ quick for me, so if there are any glaring errors or nonsense tangents, I apologize.

Hux grudgingly keeps his mind open as he gets out of the car, glancing across groups of badly-costumed teenagers that pass just next to his elbow, more than a few eyes gawking backward in a manner that is most definitely directed at him. He even holds out hope as they walk along the the street rather than cross it, now trying to rationalize that Ren is simply aiming to fit in better so no one catches on he’s using up space in a place with so little parking, but it all becomes harder to explain away when Ren actually walks under a low stone arch into a dimly lit garden-made-cemetery.

“Ren,” Hux says, stopping on his heels and reaching out to grab at a thin sleeve, halting Ren from taking another step. He thinks he manages to keep his voice level despite the otherwise furious emotion slowly rising. “What is happening here? _Exactly_.”

“We are…” Ren trails off, his tone meeting Hux’s at near the same degree of faux neutral, rising only slightly when he actually looks at Hux from the corner of his eye. “At my Uncle’s place. For a party.”

Hux drops Ren’s shirt lest he do something rash, reaching up to pinch hard at the bridge of his nose. The gesture conveniently covers the _Skywalker Academy for Gifted Students_ sign over the archway, but it doesn’t make it go away, and he finally lets the frown he’s been holding back form across his face.

Ren leans forward, likely driven by discomfort as a pair of giggling teenagers pass them. “He’s making me chaperone it, because they needed more and I’m alumni.”

“Interesting,” Hux says, flicking his tongue slightly, and entirely because he knows Ren particularly hates the clink of the barbells against his teeth. “That peculiar disconnect – _you_ being forced to chaperone, yet I am also here.”

“He said I could bring someone to help,” Ren says, still speaking in that even voice, only now it seems to be far more patronizing. The bright yellow of his contacts, his twitching robotic ears, make the tone utterly ludicrous and twice as infuriating. “And I think he knew it was going to be you, so it’s not like _that_ weird.”

Hux feels his jaw tighten with the impulse to grind his teeth, and lowers his voice as he leans in to glare just centimeters off Ren’s nose. “You should have at least said _something_ – I could’ve dressed more appropriately.”

“What?” Ren asks, his voice breaking slightly into something satisfyingly anxious. He shifts away with some excuse to look down, as if he’s forgotten what Hux put on an hour ago. “You’re in a costume; it’s a Halloween party.”

“I’m dressed as – ”  Hux pauses, trying to come up with some way to divert from their cliché; at least these affluent children, likely raised to fear _his type,_ are less likely to mention directly that he’s half of a couples costume. “A brutally mauled victim.”

“That was you,” Ren says, rolling his eyes clearly just to look away. He flicks his hair away from his forehead in a familiar tic of discomfort, as he well should, “I thought it would be… cuter?”

“And now you’re just lying,” Hux says, gesturing forward with an upturned flick of his fingers. “Mr. Wolf Wearing a _Crop Top_.”

“It’s a football jersey,” Ren says, looking down with a surly frown, like he doesn’t completely understand the problem. He’s sewn the upper half with a cloak of fur, only to leave his pale abdomen on display like a cheap stripper.

“You’re half naked around a bunch of teenagers,” Hux hisses, ignoring an urge to pull his own tattered red hoodie in around his arms. “I look like I was attacked by you and those stupid piercings – it’s completely inappropriate.”

“You wouldn’t be complaining if this was regular party,” Ren says, shrugging carelessly; the ears on his head twitch forward at Hux with some manner of unnerving focus.

Hux takes a sharp breath between his teeth. “This is _nowhere_ near a regular party.”

“Ben!?” A voice cuts through the air, interrupting the argument with a jarring shout. 

Hux turns around with a start, catching a trio of cliche pirates rushing toward them with disturbing speed. 

Rey slows to a stop less than a meter away, her voice lowering significantly, " _Ben._ "

“And Armie,” Poe adds, tilting his head as he seems to judge their costumes, tapping his chin with a hook as his narrowed eyes fix on Hux’s neck; his grimace is enough to know the research on fatal bites has paid off.

“Don’t speak to me,” Hux sighs, looking away from the trio of children he’s reluctantly come to know over the past two years. He’s going to be eighty and this little asshole his going to insist on calling him a name found on bloody _LiveJournal_. The worst part is he can’t even remove it – he’s forgotten the password.

“Why are you guys at a school dance?” Finn asks, flipping up his eye-patch to peer more easily, seemingly following Poe’s attention to stare at Hux’s neck, then looking to Ren’s mouth and its quartet of fanged studs with a curl of his nose. “You’re kind of… Too _old_.”

“Uncle Luke said I had to watch you,” Ren says, his voice a quiet, but firm turn from the whine of thirty seconds ago.

“What?” Rey says, eyes going wide, looking to the side at the other two as they all glance between each other. She ends up glaring back at Ren, taking a step forward with a hand curling into a fist at her side, “You should’ve said no.”

“His ‘you’ was meant as the entire school,” Hux clarifies, because he’d rather not watch what might become to a martial arts competition in the middle of a carpark. He doesn’t need to be pictured on the front page tomorrow, dressed like this, and particularly not under the headline: _Benny and Reanna Come to Blows at Family Academy._

 _“_ Wait,” Poe says, a disbelieving laugh erupting from his mouth, voice going pitchy with obvious discomfort. He hastily shoves a satchel, suspiciously labeled Treasure, behind his back. “Do you really want to do this?”

“Halloween should be like sacred to you,” Finn agrees, a similarly uneasy smile crossing his expression as he folds his arms and gives a nervous glance toward Rey. “Aren’t you supposed to be eating bats and talking to the devil right now?”

“Erroneous assumptions all round,” Hux says dryly, hoping that he had been far more subtle at this age; then again, he rather had to be in comparison. He doesn’t think any of their respective parents are half as unreasonable as Brendol ever was, which is an untimely sobering thought.

“I can’t believe it,” Rey mutters, pulling out her phone with a vaguely familiar pout curling at her mouth. “He doesn’t trust me at all.”

“Not everything is about you,” Ren says, giving a huff like he’s not being an utter hypocrite with that line.

Hux shakes his head shortly, rolling his eyes away and across the quad to take in the scores of meandering students. He has an overwhelming urge to take a step back, then another, and keep going until he finds a bus stop _somewhere_ in this absurdly posh and remote neighborhood. He doesn’t need this tonight.

He was told it was a party, yes, but he had far different aspirations for the evening. He envisioned somewhere more private, where he could taunt Ren about the irony of their costume roles until they ending up all over each other in some dark corner, but that was all delusion. He’s going to be stuck acting the bitter adult in this place, getting frustrating with stupid children and wanting to go home, just like every social event he’s been forced to attend.

“Hey,” Ren says, drawing attention back to the present with a simple, clipped word. He gestures backward with his chin, at the brats now filing in through an open pair of open double doors. “Come on.”

* * *

 Hux blinks in some surprise as a shadow breaks the dim light onto the table, and he looks up to find Ren the culprit, finally reappearing after being absent for at least the last half hour. He’s standing there with his hands at his sides, ostensibly relaxed, but biting at his lips in a manner that has the shiny fangs gently clinking together.

“Are you like, really that mad?”

“No,” Hux lies, reaching out for his cup of tropical berry whatever, rotting his teeth to bits with every anxious sip. He had plans for those stupid piercings, but now he’s not sure he’ll even still be into them by the time they leave this awkward teenage hell. The ears, on the other hand, he knows he’ll be ‘accidentally’ throwing away as soon as possible.

Ren doesn’t need to look any more like a sad dog; case in point: his present pout, unmarred by the inhuman eyes. “Are you – ”

“You’re supposed to be making sure no one dies,” Hux interrupts, looking away from Ren and back to the main hall in front of him. “Neglecting your duty, aren’t you?”

“It’s a bunch of nerds,” Ren says, sitting down backward on the bench next to Hux with a heavy sigh, his hands folding up at his lap. “The last dangerous thing that happened at this school was me.”

Hux slowly raises an eyebrow, grudgingly amused, though the fact it’s entirely mocking must mean something for his sensibility. He scoffs shortly, “I’m sure.”

Ren makes a frustrated noise, apparently feeling the need to leaning sideways into Hux’s space to continue, as if the small group engrossed in some kind of game on their phones might overhear. “I mean it, asshole. I uh – I actually set fire to something in here that almost killed everyone. But that was at Prom.”

Hux absolutely loathes his sense of curiosity. “Excuse me?”

“Banners,” Ren whispers, pointing upward and gesturing at the trio of school house colors hanging from an exposed wooden beam. “They used to be from the first school, somewhere in Scotland or something.”

“I didn’t know you went to a Prom,” Hux says, trying to imagine Ren in the role as lead of some cliché American movie. He finds himself embarrassed to flinch away from the thought of the date; if they danced together, if Ren was shy, if they kissed, or if they found someplace quiet after to make poor decisions. He glances up again, realizing the banners may have been some consequential victim of Ren’s anger, if said date had done something to hurt him. “What was that like?”

“Don’t say it like that,” Ren says, sighing heavily and leaning backward onto the table with both elbows, mussing the table cloth and nearly upending a bowl of pretzel mix. “I didn’t even have a date or anything, or _friends_. My mom and my uncle just made me go to all these dances since they thought it would socialize me.”

“Ah,” Hux intones, revisualizing his assumption to Ren sitting exactly where they are now, only alone; admittedly, it does settle with a mood of being far more realistic. He looks up at the banners again, then hums, “So it was on a whim?”

Ren tips his head backward, eyes narrowing from upside down. “Huh?”

“Were you sitting here and looked up,” Hux says, pointing upward now with his index finger, “And realized you could ruin it for everyone else, too?”

“Oh,” Ren says, a wide smile breaking across his face when Hux looks back down, his eyes turning upward and mouth actually half open in a laugh. “That – _yeah_. Fuck, Hux.”

“What?” Hux asks, dropping his hand back to the table and raising an eyebrow.

“It’s been eight years and no one else has realized that,” Ren says, shaking his head; he gestures around the room with an awkwardly held hand. “ _They_ all thought it was some mental breakdown.”

Hux feels a frown cut across his face with some alarm. “And you didn’t argue with them?”

“I would’ve, but no one knows for _sure_ it was me,” Ren says, his voice even lower now, smile fading some into a more compressed smirk. He shifts in further, leaning hard into Hux’s shoulder. “Whenever they talk about it though, it’s always _someone_ was this, or _someone_ was going through that. I just wasn’t paying attention to the fire.”

Hux rolls his eyes. “I’ve understood it that you were a very bitter teenager.”

“Not ‘ _burn the building down’_ bitter,” Ren argues, his voice rising for a few words before abruptly falling into a murmur when the kids on the end of the table start to look up. “Just… ‘ _set off the sprinklers’_ bitter.”

Hux takes a deep breath, feeling a laugh at the base of his throat despite better judgement. “You are a terribly naughty boy.”

“But that’s why you love me,” Ren says, ostensibly now feeling _very_ confident.

“I’m fairly certain that it’s this, actually,” Hux says, humoring the mood and reaching down to palm the exposed spread of Ren’s abdomen, his groping thankfully hidden by the table. He feels something grossly sentimental as Ren slumps into him as response, juvenile delight blooming across his mind when a thick arm swings around his own middle.

“You’re so shallow,” Ren says, tone low and mouth near enough to Hux’s ear to almost feel his voice. “I know you like me for my personality.”

Hux scoffs under his breath, lifting the cup for another drink; he offers it to Ren, who takes it with a certain affected wariness that lasts up right up to him tipping it up for a sip. He puts on a big show, but Hux is fairly certain he could literally poison him with no trouble.

“Shit,” Ren gags, unknowingly spluttering out support for the notion. “Is this spiked?”

“Barely,” Hux says, taking the cup back before Ren can dump it all over his lap; he’s got such a sensitive palate that he could probably detect alcohol in _blood_. “If any of these children are acting at all pissed, it was probably them.”

“I bet it was Poe,” Ren says, lifting his hand and pointing over to the far staircase, clearly at the widely gesturing pirate just barely visible on the steps with a pair of fighter pilots. “He was being real shifty.”

“He also had that bag,” Hux adds, leaning up slightly and trying to get a better look for it, then regretting it when Ren shifts away to stand. “Are you actually going to scold him?”

“No, fuck it,” Ren says, reaching out to tug at the shoulder of Hux’s hoodie, presumably for him to get up and follow. “Let’s go.”

“Go,” Hux repeats dubiously, carefully shoving up and extracting himself from the table.

“Yeah,” Ren says, gesturing with his chin backward at the door. He shoves his hands in his pockets, nudging Hux at the hip as they begin to walk, “I think I saw a haunted tour at one of the estates on the way up.”

Hux glances around the ballroom as they slowly make their way across, at the toil of mingling students, then looks back to Ren. He doesn’t want to say it at all, but, “You’re supposed to be a responsible adult tonight.”

“Nope,” Ren says, shaking his head shortly, “I already failed, we can go.”

Hux glares at him sidelong, “Not how it works.”

“We’re not the only ones here,” Ren says, his voice echoing some as they exit the main ballroom and into a mostly silent hall, lit with little more than black lights and carved pumpkins. He glances around, then gives a sharp hum. “See, there’s Tarkin and my grandfather.”

Hux follows the direction to find Ren looking at an oversize painting hung high on the wall. It features a pair of older gentleman near a now-familiar staircase; one sharp-faced and severe, the other with conspicuous prostheses. The placard declares them a pair of headmasters from the seventies, both of whom Hux knows for certain are dead.

“Look,” Ren continues, actually coming to a stop in front of the old portrait. He does a curious sway, looking backward at Hux on the second go round. “The eyes seem to follow you, right?”

“ _Ren_.”

“ _Hux_ ,” Ren mocks, darting away from the painting and just out of reach, like he knew Hux was about to grab him. He shoves his hands once again into his trousers, walking backward. “Nothing is going to happen.”

Hux slowly raises an eyebrow, “You literally just bragged about setting the ballroom room on fire. Allegedly.”

Ren is quiet for a few moments, still moving, then abruptly slumps forward with a put-upon sigh. “Go out and walk around, then come back?”

“Better,” Hux says, stepping forward and easily catching up to Ren, whose previously confident gait has now turned to little more than a moping shuffle.

The outside stone is lit in shades of purple and orange, various trees sporting spider webs and skeletons, though neither to the point of distaste. Hux has to admit the school is a rather nice place with no other humans loitering around and ruining it for him – except Ren, who seems to be trying to get close, but evidently not _too_ close. It is a little ludicrous, but Hux is going to let him have at it for a few minutes while he takes in the atmosphere.

The Halloween ambiance does eventually cede to brighter light near a pitch and a tennis court, most of the party sounds fading into a gentle rustling of a nearby wood. The path visibly winds further into the dark, enough that he knows he should probably force Ren to turn around, but he has almost zero desire to listen to that small, sensible voice.

“Oh shit,” Ren says, reaching out and stopping Hux with a soft tap to his breastbone. He points out toward a distant fountain, where a small semicircle of statues gathers around a bench – most notably filled by a pair of amorous students.

Hux stares a few stunned moments, then looks over to Ren. “Go over there and stop them.”

“What?” Ren practically yelps, straightening his back and shaking his head. “No.”

“It’s why you’re here,” Hux reminds, gesturing forward with his chin. The figures don’t look to be in any compromised or potentially mortifying positions, presumably only snogging. “Go be a chaperone.”

“You’re an asshole,” Ren groans, a small snarl at his lips as he turns and stomps off the path; the ears on the top of his head are drooping now, utterly comical. “You just want to watch me fuck this up. Get called a creep.”

“Some,” Hux admits, trailing behind Ren and glancing around to see if there might be any other students, or even adults, on the grounds. He sees no one, just these two, and realizes they had probably known they would be alone this far out – or had believed they would.

Ren stops suddenly, barely flinching when Hux steps on his heels, and his voice little more than an aghast whisper when he speaks, “Are those _pirates_?”

“I...” Hux trails off, curling his lips over teeth. He thinks giving into the urge to laugh might be the wrong move, by the thunder slowly eclipsing over Ren’s face. “I believe they are.”

“Rey!” Ren shouts, his wariness disappearing as his voice echoes brutally around the small area, enough to even drown out the fountain. 

The pair fly apart like startled birds, Rey stumbling back while Finn immediately tries to make himself one with the stone bench. Hux pauses next to a statue just to enjoy the schadenfreude as it washes over him, slightly vindictive for how often they’ve delighted in doing the same to him, not to mention always insisting on calling him by the wrong name.

Admittedly, they might not deserve this, exactly; if it is their first kiss, Ren may have just sprung on them like a wrathful sign of the Gods never to do so again, which is a little cruel even for him.

“What are you doing out here?!” Rey shrieks after recovering, flying at Ren and physically trying to shove him into a statue. It’s a slight overreaction, considering the most extreme Ren has done in the opposite situation is try to crawl under a sofa.

“Me?!” Ren says, lifting his hands to gesture at a clear loss, stepping aside when she goes for him again in fury. “You two were making-out! Together!”

“No, we weren’t!” Rey disagrees, as if by rote; she stops her attempted assault and points in fury, holding out a slightly shaky hand in the direction of the manor. “Just go away, you stupid asshole! Why do you have to ruin everything?!”

Finn, rather thankfully, doesn’t seem to be trying to inject himself in the altercation. He actually looks more stunned than anything, eyes fixed and widening on Ren with a sort of growing horror that teenagers tend to get when faced with the enormous, protective relatives of potential bedmates. It’s entirely misplaced; Ren is clearly far more concerned with the fact his little cousin is no longer so little.

Hux listens to the argument for a few moments more, now going in circles of various shame, then exhales softly, reaching into his pocket with some kind of pity. He had taken a couple tonight, slightly too hopeful, and holds one of the foil packets out to Finn. “Take it.”

Finn takes a shallow breath, now looking like he might actually pass out; he glances frantically to Ren, to the condom, to Hux’s face, then seems to wheeze in panic. “What?”

“Take. It.” Hux repeats slowly, raising an eyebrow in attempt to look patronizing. “If you need. I also have – “

Finn abruptly reaches out and snatches up the condom, curling it into his palm with a slight crumpling noise. He stares aghast at his own hand for a moment, then looks up with a fear like Hux just committed some sort of magic trick to make him move. 

“Hux!” Ren barks, slightly ironically, looking over with narrowed, betrayed eyes; he’s apparently caught part of the exchange, which is less than ideal. “What the hell was that?”

“Finn?” Rey asks at the same time, her mouth pinching into a flat line.

Finn shakes his head, so quick it looks like it might twist off. “Nothing.”

“Nothing at all,” Hux agrees, stepping forward and reaching out to grab Ren’s bicep, digging his fingers into the sensitive furrow between muscle. He pulls hard, forcing Ren into a stumble, and removes him from the argument. “Let’s move along, wolf.”

“Wait, no,” Ren protests, though he doesn’t quite try to remove himself from Hux’s grip, and seems to settle with a low muttering as they walk further into an artificial thicket, away from the path. He hip checks Hux as they pass a particularly ghastly tree, mostly leafless and liberally strung with spider web. “Why did you do that?”

“Because I don’t have your hang-ups, Ren,” Hux says, feeling rather awkward as he gestures outward in the vague direction of the fountain; he’s starting to get a little disoriented now on the oversize campus. “Obviously.”

Ren rolls his eyes in frustration, shuffling around the tree in a nervous tic. He comes to a stop after the second go-round, voice quiet, “What do you think they’re doing?”

Hux thinks for a few moments, then reaches out, sliding his hand across Ren’s shoulder. “Nothing. You’ve definitely scared them tonight.”

Ren gives a short, circular shake of his head, clearly still troubled by some ludicrous notions.

“Not to mention,” Hux says lowly, leaning in near Ren’s ear and feeling a smirk curling at his lips. “That was one of those condoms with our names on it.”

Ren makes a pitchy noise, turning to look at Hux with bright, startled eyes. “The custom ones?

“Yes,” Hux says, moving back with a reluctant huff at the idea of one, or both, of the brats looking down and reading the label in horror. “Congratulations, your outlandish purchases are now discouraging sex between other people, not just with you.”

“You fucking love them,” Ren says, turning around to face Hux, sliding hands down around his ass and roughly shoving oversized fingers into the pockets of his trousers; everything about Ren is just too damned big. “You’re even carrying them around in your tiny jeans.”

“I don’t claim to love anything,” Hux argues, forcing a flat line to his mouth.

“You’re such a liar,” Ren says, shifting forward and pushing Hux against the rough bark of the tree. He turns his head as he looms, lips hovering just over Hux’s mouth. “Pathologically.”

“Bold statement,” Hux says, narrowing his eyes and ignoring the heat prickling up the side of his neck. “A little rude.”

“You said you loved _me_ ,” Ren mutters, his voice actually cracking a little.

“I don’t remember that,” Hux says, sliding a hand slowly up Ren’s shoulder, over that thick fur cloak and around his nape. He tilts his own head, exhaling slow and watching Ren reflexively glance down. “Doesn’t sound like something I’d do.”

“You did,” Ren says, canting his hips forward when Hux takes advantage to feel out his exposed midriff. His voice is so low when he speaks that Hux practically has to feel out the syllables on his lips. “Said I was _naughty_.”

“Perhaps,” Hux agrees, gently angling his head and catching at Ren’s lips for an instant, feeling out the soft scratch of those obnoxious studs. They’re just the slightest bit sharp, enough that he knows they could lead to some some fairly incredible results.

“You know,” Ren says, pulling his mouth away, though his hands stay firmly in place. “People hang out near this tree,”

“Fascinating,” Hux says flatly, mildly cross that Ren has seen fit to interrupt for such useless information.

“Shut up,” Ren says, alternating his words with presses of soft, teasing kisses along Hux’s jaw; the sensation is utterly tormenting. “Like popular kids, you know? I saw a girl getting fingered over here once.”

Hux can’t help giving a startled huff. “You awful voyeur.”

“I ran away, actually,” Ren says, a vaguely hysterical laugh at the back of his throat as he presses his nose flat into Hux’s neck, the embarrassed flutter of his lashes evident on Hux’s skin. He takes a deep breath, exhaling slow, “Freaked me out.”

Hux rolls his eyes upward, absently tipping his head with a considering hum; the ears are actually quite soft, twitching against his cheek. “I’d probably have done the same. And not just because my school didn’t have trees.”

Ren presses further into Hux’s collarbone, still for another moment, then abruptly moves back, his eyes now wide and hands shifting up to tighten around Hux’s waist. “Hey, you know what is like two minutes from here?”

Hux exhales heavily, feeling a glower creep across his expression.

“A colonial cemetery,” Ren announces, his tone like this is some grand surprise, a smile curling at his lips. “It’s full of tall trees, broken headstones – no one goes out there because it’s _that_ fucking creepy.”

Hux narrows his eyes, grudgingly letting the idea flitter across some sick part of his mind heavily influenced by the discomfort of his trousers. It’s Halloween _,_ though; sneaking into cemeteries is practically a pastime, and not just for people like them. “No one?”

“No one,” Ren repeats, shifting in close again, and with a very different sort of dare in his eyes. “No one at all.”

Hux slowly tilts his head, “Interesting.”

“Knew you’d say that,” Ren says, pressing a decidedly sloppy, wet kiss to the side of Hux’s mouth. He pulls back completely, like an agreement was already come to, and turns to march toward the darkened wood.

“I assume this will involve trespassing,” Hux calls, kicking off the tree and stretching his shoulders back, so tired of feeling old at this stupid school. A graveyard definitely sounds like a charming turn for the evening. “If we get caught, you’re paying the bills.”

“No shit,” Ren says, glancing backward, his face almost entirely shadowed as the school gets further away with each step. “But we won’t.”

The route to the tree line turns out to be interrupted by a high, stone barrier, and Hux watches with some admiration as Ren reaches up and grabs the ledge, pulling himself to the top with barely a pause. He turns to straddle the wall in the next moment, reaching down with an open hand.

Hux exhales softly, reluctantly taking the offer. He would like to think he could do it himself, but the top of the wall is a few centimeters above his head, at least two meters all together, and he hasn’t done a pull up in nearly ten years. He actually waits for the mocking once they’ve jumped down on the other side, but gets nothing, instead flinching in surprise at the yelp Ren gives dropping his phone-turned-torch into a pile of damp leaves.

He follows Ren’s winding footsteps, tempted to look around, yet still watching the narrow cone of light in front of them. He doesn’t need to break an ankle out here, and has a feeling Ren would not handle it with any sort of aplomb. He does glances sidelong for a quick second, tracing his eyes across Ren’s oddly determined expression. “Have you taken anyone here before?”

Ren gives a startled chuckle, “Hell no.”

“Really?” Hux asks, in slight disbelief; he’d have thought Ren knew about this place because it was an old haunt to do whatever wicked things a teenager like Ren did, being a teetotal nonsmoker – contemplate arson, apparently.

“It’s not really somewhere I liked to go alone, either,” Ren says, his voice taking on just the slightest meek tone, abruptly punctuated by an entirely insincere chuckle cracking from his throat. “It’s too quiet.”

“You really never dragged anyone – ”

“None of them lived near here,” Ren says, defensive now, speaking loud and sarcastic before the question can even be got out, which is a decidedly bad sign for his mood.

Hux grimaces to himself, glad for the dark and inwardly cringing at his own lack of tact. It's actually starting to get him a little angry now, thinking that the Ren in all of these stories he’s heard tonight might have been alone. Hux had a few friends, sort of; people he sat next to in classes. He’s sure that Ren had that, at least, if perhaps not the sort of types that might enjoy taking a stroll in a graveyard behind the school.

“Okay,” Ren says, stopping in the middle of a clear patch and sweeping across the forest with his light. 

Hux looks up and takes a startled breath, feeling a smile actually turn up at the edges of his mouth. The place looks _awful._ He wishes he’d brought a camera, or a sketchbook, anything to capture the shadowed angles of every upturned headstone and overgrown tree; he can even see from here that one of the tombs is outright broken, roots bursting from between the cracked slab.  

“Cool?” Ren says, his tone terribly hopeful.

“I should think so,” Hux says, reaching out and tugging at Ren’s short sleeve. He reaches for his own phone and turns on the light, walking a few paces forward until he’s at the closest headstone, kneeling to brush leaves off the inscription. It's in a faded, flowy writing, but still readable:  “June 3, 1742; Mr. Aaron Cairn, died at 43.”

Ren hums low under his breath. “Yeah, it’s old.”

Hux moves on to the next, taking quick pictures before brushing off moss and autumn-colored leaves just to peak at the epitaphs of the long-dead. He finds himself taken aback completely as he brushes off the inscription on the broken tomb, blinking and peering in disbelief. “Organa.”

“What?” Ren says, put out like he’s suddenly being called upon.

“Miss _Verity_ Organa,” Hux clarifies, clearing his throat of a laugh and tracing the inscription of the name with his index finger, pointing his phone up to catch the bemused look on Ren’s face. “I wonder if she’s one of yours.”

“Maybe,” Ren says, shrugging and crouching down, rubbing under his chin with his knuckles. “Probably? I never noticed that before, shit.”

Hux leans back, drawing his light up and down the ends of the grave, taking in the little details; the statuette, the elaborate headstone, the entire tomb lifted to prominence over the others. She must have been very well-regarded, and definitely wealthy. “It would explain the elaborate burial.”

“Looks like she escaped, though,” Ren adds, pointing at the end, cracked as it is and overgrown with flora. He frowns, almost troubled, “I don’t remember it being like that.”

“Perhaps you’ll meet her,” Hux says, looking back over and tapping the crest of her headstone with the tips of his fingers.

Ren is quiet for a moment, then leans over slightly and knocks against Hux’s side. “She probably wouldn’t approve of my lifestyle.”

“Especially not with so much to choose from,” Hux says, unable to ignore the opportunity.

“Definitely not this,” Ren says, his hand appearing only to slide up and down Hux’s thigh, and rather ruining the joke by making it far too unbearably sweet.

Hux takes a sharp breath when Ren moves more purposefully, slightly surprised, which is far more than he should be, to find himself pulled into a slightly sharp kiss. He allows himself a few moments, promising he'll move on as he groans into Ren’s mouth, answering a familiar tongue with the curl of his own. He leans back the next moment with a scolding on the edge of his mind, only to instead give into the heat prickling under his skin, tilting his head with a hum as Ren's lips moves down his neck, feeling a big hand slowly sliding down the zipper of his hoodie. 

"Ren,” Hux says, vexed that his voice is so breathy, his libido refusing to give way to his logical mind as he lets Ren push him onto the soft, leaf-littered ground. The shirt underneath his hoodie is thin, folding up easily under his chin when Ren shoves at it, exposing his skin to the cool air, full of insects and forest rot, and – oh _fuck_ , the fang studs do feel amazing biting into his skin alongside Ren’s actual teeth. "We’re in a cemetery."

"Shut up," Ren says, voice slightly muffled by his attentions. "I've seen all your art.” 

“Not _all_ ,” Hux disagrees, clumsily shoving up to grab his phone and put it somewhere behind him, dimly lighting them from the back of his head; he pats the ground blindly, soon finding Ren’s phone, and props it up just to his side, wishing absurdly that they somehow had a third.

Ren’s piercings shine as he continues to trace down Hux’s chest, biting down near a nipple in the sort of awful way that sends sparks of heat to his cock. The stupid ears are twitching with loss of what emotion to convey, lust somehow beyond their capacity, and Hux reaches out to grab them, dragging them off and throwing them to the side. Probably into a gravestone.

“Hey!” Ren snaps, looking up with an exaggerated scowl pinching at his lips. “Those were mine.”

“And stupid,” Hux says, sinking both his hands into Ren’s hair, scratching down his scalp, “You’re not sucking me off with them.”

“Who said I was at all?” Ren mutters sullenly, practically contradicting himself as he blindly shifts attention to front of Hux’s trousers, pulling at the fly.

“Maybe if you’re good,” Hux says, slowly licking at his lower lip, pushing the barbells out and watching Ren’s eyes widen, bright yellow contacts glinting off the bad phone light.

“Fuck,” Ren mutters, outright nuzzling into Hux’s crotch now, pulling at his underwear with one hand while the other addresses the real issue. “I better.”

“Wait,” Hux says, leaning farther forward and pulling Ren’s head back. He carefully turns each fanged stud in the opposite direction to natural, realizing belatedly that something that feels so great when biting might be _slightly_ less amazing against his cock. 

“Shit,” Ren says, a grimacing sort of humor in his tone. He leans down to press a soft kiss to Hux’s hip, “My bad.”

“Good, otherwise,” Hux admits, tilting back up only to feel mortified heat flood his neck and over his cheeks, watching as Ren lays more fleeting kisses along the shaft of his cock. He pulls almost reflexively hard on Ren’s hair after a few moments of the nonsense, unsettled that he's being such a sap for a man committing felonies in a graveyard.

Ren winces slightly, but it’s not without a self-satisfied smirk that he finally shifts forward with a flat swipe of his tongue straight up from the zipper, smug as ever when he fully wraps his lips around Hux’s cock. He can be such a cheeky bastard with that stupid cocksucker mouth. 

Hux pants into the air as heat begins to spread across every inch of his skin, absently taking in the shadows of decay crowding in at his sides, helping set his heart to beat with a different excitement. He’s getting sucked off in an actual forgotten graveyard, next to a tomb labeled Organa, _by_ an Organa, on bloody _All Hallows’ Eve_ , and it’s – damn it, this is the most erotic thing that’s ever happened to him. He doesn’t have so much to go on comparatively, but he’s sure enough that nothing is going to surpass it from here.

He’s already sketching out the memory in his head, with spectral onlookers wearing expressions from disapproval to envy; the leafless trees bearing down and looming over them like skeletal hands. It’ll be something to put down later and show Ren, watch that grimacing flush cross his nose. He loves that look – the awed mix of interest and disgust.

The composition isn’t perfect, not exactly, but as he gasps up at the pale moon, listening to the wet, uneven sounds of Ren’s mouth, he realizes that he knows exactly how he could make it that way. He hastily pushes himself up until he’s near standing, cockhead consequentially parting from a startled Ren’s mouth with a tragic pop and a shock of cool air as he moves, but he only feels foolish until he’s hooking a leg around one of Ren’s sturdy shoulders, shoving his cock entire between still parted lips and back into that perfect mouth.

Ren continues blinking in some surprise, but otherwise seems content to be manhandled and climbed on, forced upward into kneeling, and actually groans as Hux takes firm hold of his hair to rip the pace out of his control. His eyes even fall closed with a gasping moan, opening his jaw wider as Hux starts getting sloppy with him.

“Good boy,” Hux murmurs under his breath, transfixed on his starkly shadowed cock disappearing quickly between plush lips. His mouth twists with breathlessness as it starts to get too much, far too soon, and finds himself holding Ren’s head firmer, taking shallower and shallower thrusts. He moans when he feels Ren’s tongue daringly slide around his head after he’s nearly stopped, a hum sounding faintly as Ren abruptly swallows Hux all the way back of his throat, convulsing and absolutely perfect.

It is Ren’s hottest, worst move, mostly because it's almost always immediately dampens the mood when he starts gagging and spitting come like he’s surprised it works. _Every_ time.  

Hux leans back and watches his wet, softening cock fall with a grimace, gently stroking his hands through Ren’s hair and attempting to smooth the knots from his own fingers. He exhales after another few seconds, his body finally relaxing, and slides pointedly down onto Ren’s straining crotch.

“ _Shit_ ,” Ren yelps, in a shout loud enough that he covers his own mouth with both hands, eyes going wide and mortified when he slowly looks up at Hux in the ensuing moments.

Hux just raises his brows back, awkwardly grinding down at the same time he tries to do up his own trousers. It seems to do the trick, Ren soon taking a deep, weighty breath, hands dropping from his mouth and wrapping around Hux’s waist as he begins moving up in tandem. If they were at home, he would unquestionably shove Ren down prone on his back to thank him proper, but he can feel the weight of the place settling over his back; Ren and he have had their fun, but this isn’t their place.

“Later,” he promises, rolling back on to the balls of his toes and pushing up on Ren’s shoulders to stand. It’s a little sadistic, enjoying the sight of Ren realizing won’t be getting anything more right now, but still on just this side of acceptable. “I assume you’re getting terribly cold, out here in only in your ‘ _football mesh’._ ”

“Yeah,” Ren says, stumbling to his own overlarge feet and nearly falling over a wayward headstone. “Could still warm me up?”

Hux rolls his eyes, looking away before he can start feeling too mawkish, and moves forward to pick up both their improvised lamps before Ren can fall over doing it. He glances at their respective battery life with a grimace, then hurriedly pockets both of them after looking over the ranting texts dotting the front of Ren’s screen. “Let’s go, then.”

The trudge back is quicker now he’s no longer expectant, feeling absently surprised when they reach the wall so soon after occupying himself with ideas of coming back in the daylight. For pictures.

He comes up short as an idle notion seems to quickly corrupt his thoughts, pausing just as the brick looms high just ahead of them. It’s likely Ren would forgive him to the point of forgetting completely about it, if he forwent reciprocating any time soon, but he still finds himself reaching out before Ren can jump up onto the wall, gripping hard into fake fur. “Are there any cameras out here?”

Ren looks around, shaking his head and pulling a face. “Not on this – ”

“Right,” Hux says, keeping his tone firm and repressing his smirk as he shoves Ren bodily into the uneven brick. 

“Oh,” Ren yelps, his voice pitching almost into a squeak.

Hux nips at the bare skin just above Ren’s belt, unbuttoning loose trousers at a slightly hurried pace. The lighting is better out here, the moon less obstructed by the woods, and he looks up just as he forces Ren’s pants across thick thighs; the dick in his hand is still half hard, flushed and heavy, and it only takes moments for Ren to gasp some faltering version of Hux’s name, throwing his head back against the wall

Hux shifts flatter on his knees after that, giving Ren a warning pat just before he bends down to swirl his tongue along the near completely retreated foreskin, bobbing his head in shifts to tease the head as he listens to Ren start to make noise. Ren has a problem of going on like he’s getting put to a most agreeable torture, and Hux must admit it’s half the reason he ever does this at all.  

“Oh, fuck,” Ren pants after only a few seconds, driving shallowly upward in a pair of sporadic thrusts. He lets out another guttural moan when Hux twists the barbells around his frenulum and ridge, entire cock already twitching with telltale anticipation.

“Really?” Hux taunts as he pulls off, refusing to let Ren come so soon despite the chill quickly setting into his shoulders. He kisses sloppily up the side of the shaft as he lazily gives Ren a few strokes with his hand, setting the other to roll soft around his bollocks. “It’s hardly been two minutes, darling.”

“Shut up,” Ren mutters, his breath coming quick and eyes seemingly set firm on the moon. He’s clearly going for some attempt at more stamina, which is almost sad considering how often Hux reuses techniques on him. “Yo- you're -  _fucking_ _dick_.”

“Just a slut for me, are you,” Hux asks, shifting his hand away from Ren’s balls and pressing just behind, glancing up at the same moment he rubs his knuckles back and forth, “Or is it only my tongue?”

Ren gasps sharply, bucking forward, chin falling to his chest and revealing his eyes squeezed shut. “ _Hux_.”

Hux gives a short huff and looks back down, spanning his hand across Ren’s lower abdomen as a mockery of leverage, but just enjoying the clench and retract of muscle there as he slides that thick head further into his mouth. He idles less now, knowing how close Ren is, and shifts the hand down to twist at his shaft when he feels the lurching intensify, slowly increasing the pressure of his knuckles and glancing up to watch Ren’s face twist as he starts to come.

Ren’s groaning shout is tragically muffled by the return of a hand around his mouth, and Hux swallows slowly, teasing until Ren’s literally trying to squirm away, his hands dropping to clasp over Hux’s shoulders to weakly push him away.

Hux lets it happen, leveraging himself back to his feet and then shoving back in close as he gently puts Ren’s trousers back together, pressing an indulgent kiss to the ridge of that still-trembling jaw. “You still have to climb the wall,” he murmurs, “Get to it.”

* * *

 “Hey,” Ren says, shoved up against Hux’s side as they loiter outside the school drive, watching people file into the proper cars like they’re actually doing something. “Are you still going to kill me when we get home?”

“I think I’ve turned around,” Hux admits, tugging gently at the small hairs at the back of Ren’s neck.

“I did have a real plan,” Ren says, his voice in a low rush like it’s not hours late for these excuses. “But it wasn’t like, a party. It was this… adult trick-or-treat bar crawl thing, since I know you didn’t have real Halloween as a kid.”

Hux glances over shortly, but Ren actually looks sincere. “You don’t drink.”

“I _can_ ,” Ren says, ludicrously indignant, as if he doesn’t regularly lambast anything with a minor percentage. “But then I was forced to do this stupid thing for my uncle.”

“Entirely by your own guilty conscious,” Hux reminds shortly, belatedly realizing that the reason so many chaperones are here to begin with likely has to do with prior _incidents_. “All’s well, you probably won’t be invited back for this, anyway.”

Ren makes a disgruntled noise, eyes flickering sideways in apparent confusion.

“You’re not a terribly good child minder,” Hux says, looking back forward with a low hum, glaring when he catches an older posh-looking couple that seems to be staring disapprovingly at them; the affronted expression he gets in response is ludicrously reproachful.

“I guess,” Ren answers low, predictably sensitive to the criticism.

“You have let me live out a fantasy, though,” Hux says, attempting to sooth with a thoughtful hum, rather than give into an urge to remind Ren that he never wanted to do this at all; he thinks being awful at this is practically a _compliment_. “Not a complete loss of an evening.”

Ren scoffs almost immediately, practically laughing, “You’re such a cliché.”

“I hardly look as bad as you on any given day,” Hux argues, rolling his eyes and tempted to bring up the fact that Ren started it all himself. “You’ve got at least ten different brands of black eyeliner and corpse foundation in the bathroom.”

“I’m not the one who’s always wanted to have sex around dead people,” Ren hisses, his mouth shoving in close to Hux’s ear, his tone gratifyingly insulted.

“It’s not the people; I’m hardly a necrophiliac,” Hux says, rolling his eyes and forcing his tone into something more condescending than the lingering fondness tugging at his mind. “It is about the _death_.”

“Ghosts watched you get off, you know,” Ren says, his voice still widely affronted. “Protestant ghosts.”

“If they’re real,” Hux adds, mostly to be contrary; his relationship with the afterlife is nothing as complicated as Ren’s convoluted belief system.

Ren is quiet for a few short moments, then grumbles, “They’re real.”

“I’m sure –  oh,” Hux says, turning sideways and feeling a mortified heat rise against his neck; he doesn’t think this is what those people noticed, but what if they had? They might’ve been judging him for completely different reasons to usual. “Your teeth.”

“My what?”

“Hold still,” Hux snaps, reaching up and feeling ten times more the fool in the harsh light of the real world. He tilts the fangs back in place with careful fingers, but finds himself frowning, feeling like something is still far out of place.

“What are you guys _doing_?” a voice interrupts, startling Hux enough that he tugs too hard on a stud, grimacing at the pained whimper from Ren.

He turns around to find Finn standing there, hands curled around some bag that he definitely hadn’t had when they went in three hours ago, or when they met awkwardly at the fountain. He frowns at it, grasping for distractions, “What is that?”

“Candy,” Finn answers, curiosity seemingly diverted as he looks down at his hands. “Duh.”

“Yeah,” Ren adds stiffly, clearing his throat and leaning away like he’s not half this whole problem.

Rey and Poe appear just moments later, silent and standoffish about something Hux could hardly care about, aside for the relief when Ren gestures stiffly for them all to start moving and make their way to the cars. He's actually being responsible, waiting for them to leave, but Hux is realizing he hates it a little. 

“Okay, weird stuff has happened,” Poe announces, taking an entire two steps back from the group only a few seconds after walking under the stone archway, gesturing at opposing sides with both hands. “I can tell.”

“Can you?” Hux says flatly, reaching up and rubbing at the center of his brow. He would really like to just step forward and take the ten meters more he needs to get to Ren’s obnoxious car, but he’s fairly sure it hasn’t even been unlocked.

“Uh, yeah, asshole,” Poe says, an angry frown cutting across his mouth as he gestures pointedly at his own neck.

Hux feels his nose curl up, a reluctant flush burning across his nose. “Ah.”

“Ears are gone, too,” Rey adds, under her breath.

“ _Fuck_ ,” Ren swears, hand flying to the top of his head for the ears, as if he might find them just by feeling around. He drags fingers down his face, across his eyes, “Those were fifty bucks.”

“And I got ditched,” Poe continues, turning to look at Rey and Finn, his voice abruptly reaching a level of frustration that Hux has never had opportunity to hear from him. “Now you won’t even fucking talk to me. I just want to know what the fuck is happening?”

“It’s not…” Rey groans, her face collapsing. “Sorry.”

“Sorry,” Finn echoes, reaching up and rubbing at the back of his own neck.

A peculiar silence settles across the carpark, absolutely none of it having to do with Hux, and he is a little disappointed that it isn’t half as entertaining as any of the crap Ren watches on TV. It might be, if he didn’t have to see any of these stupid children again, but… Well, it might be difficult to pull off at this point, since he’s quite certain he’ll be forced to partake in hols again this year.

“You know what,” Ren snaps suddenly, his teeth practically audible as they clack together and set to grind; even Hux finds himself reluctantly startled, feeling a fool. “You don’t get to ask questions _, Poe,_ not unless you want me telling your mom who wasted her rum tonight.”

Poe’s face blanches, inhaling a sharp, horrified breath. “Wait, you – ”

“I didn’t care,” Ren interrupts, lowering his voice and taking a skulking step forward, leaning down to speak directly in Poe’s face. “But trust me, I _knew_.”

“Oh,” Poe intones meekly, hunching slightly into the puffy collar of his shirt.

Hux watches the exchange with some enduring amusement, raising his brows and turning with Ren when he looks to Rey and Finn. His expression for them becomes slightly more awkward, like he’s now being forced into scolding, and Hux is probably never going to tell him it makes him like his father.

“Same goes for you two,” Ren says, with a flat swipe of a hand gesturing around the emptying spaces, “I expect glowing fucking reviews for my behavior tonight.”

“Okay?” Rey says, her lingering discomfort fading quickly into bemusement, “Wait, is… Do you just want us to say _you_ were there the whole time?”

“And so were you,” Ren says, dropping his hand and straightening his back with a sharp inhale, a visible swallow, “ _Everyone_ here was in there, and very bored for three hours.”

“Everyone?” Hux drawls, just to smirk back when Ren gives him a look that vows murder.

“Wait, that’s not fair,” Poe starts, “I was – ”

“Your mother,” Ren snaps, turning sharply at the waist with a sneer across his lips. “That I can call, right now, because I still have her number from the last time I had to _baby-sit_ all you fucking _babies_.”

Poe exhales heavily through his nose, arms crossing, “I hate you. All of you.”

**Author's Note:**

> The most awkward part of this is that it is technically a sequel to a wholly unfinished get-together fic, where basically all you need to know is Hux is an artist, Ren is a writer, they're about 26/28, and writing a gore/horror serialization. 
> 
>  
> 
> ~~Also, Ren was the Big Bad Wolf and Hux was _some kind of_ Little Red Riding Hood, which I tried to make obvious, but didn't know how not to have them just say it, which no one really does unless people ask them (and no one was asking them).~~
> 
>  
> 
> I can be found [on tumblr at Ezlebe](http://ezlebe.tumblr.com) and twitter @discospec


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